CHAPTER SIXI
Macdonald drove Bruce Mallaig as far as Clarence Gate, and there he bade him cross the iron bridge as he had done the previous evening and saunter round to the bench where he had sat before. All that he was to do then was to watch and listen. “When proceedings are finished I’ll join you again,” said Macdonald. “Off you go—and don’t stumble into the lake en route.”
Macdonald himself drove on round the Outer Circle to York Gate, where he met three men of his own department to whom he had telephoned orders when he set out with Mallaig. They knew the parts allotted to them and went to their positions, while Macdonald went and waited a yard away from the bench Bruce had occupied last night.
It was a very dark night, misty, windless, moonless—a replica of the previous evening’s c
